


Dragon's Breath

by istanbul_let



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Aphrodisiacs, Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Captivity, Drugged Sex, F/M, Hypnotism, Licking, M/M, Magical Healing Saliva, Mildly Dubious Consent, Near Death Experiences, Soul Bond, Telepathy, gold - Freeform, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 12:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istanbul_let/pseuds/istanbul_let
Summary: No princess sleeps in this castle, just a knight and his two dragons.





	Dragon's Breath

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Свободное падение](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10040459) by [istanbul_let](https://archiveofourown.org/users/istanbul_let/pseuds/istanbul_let). 



> English is not my native language, but that couldn't stop me from translating my biggest story about Alfred, Bruce and Jim. Although I'm not sure that it's even possible.
> 
> It took a life time (three months) to write it, and I'm still recovering. 
> 
> So.. Here it is. Enjoy.

_And time's running out as often it does and often dictates that you can't do that.  
But fate can't break this feeling inside that's burning up through my veins._

‘So that is how it usually happens?’

Detective Gordon has that amazing ability to ask the most unacceptable questions in the wrong time. God knows what his partner told him after the night Thomas and Martha died, but Alfred thinks that the truth was probably the only thing detective Bullock had no idea about.

So that is how it usually happens?

No, usually parents look after their offspring at least until their fifteenth birthday. However, in the Wayne family nobody had ever left their parents before turning twenty-one.

Usually eleven years old boys don’t climb the top of the roof because height is the only thing that can make them feel safe now, when their parents are gone and all their bloody relatives are dead.

Usually you have time to explain simple things: for example, why it is not okay to breathe fire with people around or eat raw meat and not use cutlery. Usually you have time to start slowly with things that are more complicated: how to find something to eat on your own and how to keep your lair in order and protect it from enemies. Usually you have at least ten years for all of that.

Usually parents are around for enough years for children to grow tired of them. Usually parents grow old and then fly to the Swiss Alps, and stay there for the rest of eternity. They do not usually die right in front of their only child, caught unaware and weak in their human bodies.

Usually GCPD detectives are clever enough… Okay, ‘clever’ is not the right word for that. Usually GCPD detectives have some kind of self-preservation instinct that tells them not to cross their paths with children like Master Bruce.

However, there are no children like Master Bruce in Gotham.

For sure, nobody in the GCPD has ever seen how an orphan heir of the richest and most powerful family in the city poises on the edge of the roof and flies to the ground when somebody calls his name, his wings still small and weak.

Master Bruce uses his knees as some kind of brakes, rips his pants, peels his palms – and stops within two feet before detective Gordon.

To kill or to bribe, Alfred thinks watching how detective Gordon tries to swallow all the prayers and curses coming out of his mouth. Master Bruce looks at Alfred, all guilty and ashamed. He stands up, shakes the dirt off his clothes, sneezes – and almost sets the grass beneath him on fire.

And suddenly third decision appears, the one that is based on the fact that in the dark dirty alleyway where everything smelled of pain, violence, lust, and spilled blood, Jim Gordon’s own smell made Alfred feel hungry, made him feel hunger Alfred almost forgot over all these years.

It seems like you barely touched your lady’s hand and mostly just read her bad poems under the moonlight, Alfred thinks. He did his homework well and spent twelve hours after Thomas and Martha death investigating detective James Gordon private affairs. However, Alfred’s nose already told him everything he needed to know. For all his long life (and it is definitely a very long one), Alfred’s sense of smell had never betrayed him.

\- No, - Alfred says, and detective Gordon looks straight in his eyes, - Usually there is other way for everything to happen.

Usually a pint of donated blood magically appears in the fridge once in a month, and Master Bruce drinks it all day long, carrying his glass and a straw with him everywhere. And Alfred just calmly wipes wet traces from the furniture.

Usually Master Bruce takes blood as a medicine, and Alfred knows for sure how different it is from the blood he really needs. Perhaps, that is how the dragons became that weak and almost disappeared. If his mother would decide to feed him with stale blood, Alfred could have never grown up probably.

Usually Alfred doesn’t think that wine cellar is comfortable for anything (or anybody) except the Chardonnay barrels, and that there is not enough space to put a bed, and that it is really easy to escape the house once you’re going upstairs. And that Jim Gordon is clever enough to realize it the first time Alfred will take him back to the rooms - and bold enough to do it the second time.

Yet for now, even the wine cellar will do.

Detective Gordon clicks his tongue.

\- Seriously, a chain?

Alfred shrugs, folds his arms behind his back and catches himself almost asking detective Gordon about what he would prefer for supper.

Funny, isn’t it?

\- If I am not back at the precinct by the evening, Harvey will…

\- Detective Bullock knows where you are, detective Gordon. Moreover, captain Essen knows it, too.

As do all the rest – those who had been in that alleyway, those who had been working with you, those who already forgot about you.

Alfred does not say all of that aloud. There is already too much information for one day.

\- I am sure that you confused something. You need a young virgin.

\- Youth is overrated, detective Gordon.

Detective Gordon does not have any sarcastic comments for that statement. He tries hard not to lose his face; he even smiles and says:

\- Jim.

\- Oh, is it?

\- I thought we were going to be friends.

Alfred smiles gently. Detective Gordon (Jim) has no idea that his discouragement (but not fear) smells even better than his astonishment. Somewhere beneath that smell, that makes Alfred want to tear a piece of fresh bleeding flesh with his own teeth, a pale and almost imperceptible scent of hope peaks through.

\- Tea will be ready in an hour.

\- Is food included? That would be a relief.

Alfred releases his claws as he feels his nostrils burning inside. Suddenly he feels a reckless desire to shift his shape right here and right now, just to see Jim Gordon’s sarcastic smile disappearing. But he restrains it of course.

Something tells him that soon it won’t be that easy.

When Alfred enters the living room, Master Bruce is here, his left arm stretched above the candle, his eyes look directly into the flame. There are tears already in the corners of his eyes and an incomprehensible expression on his face.

\- Silly boy! What have you done?

Master Bruce hides his hand behind his back and shudders when Alfred catches his wrist. There is a red scorch on his pale, almost child’s palm. Black scales start to cover his fingers and in a moment become pink human skin again.

Alfred puts his arms around Master Bruce instinctively. The boy buries his face in Alfred’s chest, and there will definitely be some traces on his waistcoat after. However, not wet because of tears, no. There will be small burn marks.

All of a sudden, Alfred remembers being asked what he, a murderer with countless victims for that moment, would prefer - to guard a cave full of gold or to protect a child’s life.

Without hesitation, Alfred chose the latter.

It seems like he should visit the wine cellar again before the tea is ready.


End file.
